The Rise of Winter, page 6
“So, he’s okay?”
“If the branches hold him, he’ll be fine.” Vulpeera chuckled.
“Good,” I said, relieved. I looked around. “Is this the Cove?”
We were on a wide expanse of white-sand beach, enclosed by the black volcanic hill I had climbed over. Well, more like toppled over.
“This is the Cove,” Vulpeera said. “Our sanctuary and ceremonial gathering place.”
I stood up to get a better view. One of my knees must have been knocked out of joint because it popped as I stood, and a jolt of pain shot up my leg. I hurt all over and my clothes were shredded and bloodied. I’m sure I looked as if I’d just been mauled by a pack of wolves—which was fitting, I guess.
“This is where Terra chooses Her new Guardians?”
“Not exactly,” Vulpeera said. “Terra’s decisions are communicated through Mount Skire. The ceremonies take place here.”
The cove was circular, about the size of the infield of the baseball diamond behind our school. A third of the circle was occupied by the ocean waves crashing toward the centre, where a large marble pillar stood like a monument. One side of the pillar—the side facing the waves—had a smooth slope to it, while the other side had stairs carved into the stone. It looked like a giant waterslide, and if I hadn’t been so sore I might have given it a try.
Next to the pillar stood a nearly leafless silver birch tree with twisted branches and a knotted hole in one side. Scattered around the cove were enormous slabs of grey rock.
I hobbled toward the rocks to get a better look. They weren’t placed randomly—twelve of them were arranged around the cove like the numbers on a clock. Four of the rocks jutted from the ocean. The stones were flat and round and all different sizes, and the ones on land each bore either a marble chair or a wooden perch.
Twelve rocks arranged in a circle … four in the water … four with perches …
I pulled out the amulet from beneath my shirt and looked at it carefully, then back at the stones.
One for each of the Guardians.
My legs ached with every step, but I managed to get to the closest rock—the largest by far. The grey rock itself stood as high as my chest, and on top was a gigantic black marble chair. It looked like a throne for some sort of king—some massive sort of king.
“The bear,” I whispered to myself.
“Yes,” Vulpeera said. I hadn’t noticed her following me.
I started walking around the cove clockwise.
The next stone slab was a quarter of the size but otherwise the same, and a smaller black throne sat on top.
I looked at the amulet. “The cheetah?”
Vulpeera nodded. “Felinia, the Land Guardian of Speed.”
“And this must be yours,” I said, continuing around the circle to an even smaller throne.
“Yes,” Vulpeera answered, following closely by my side.
I looked out to the rocks in the water. Each had a smooth, sloping side similar to that of the pillar in the centre. The sizes varied, but the amulet told me which Guardians they were for: the sailfish, the otter, the turtle, and—I looked nervously at the last—the orca. I shuddered at the thought of Cano’s black eyes and deafening shrieks.
On the opposite side of the pillar were the Sky Guardian thrones. The hummingbird’s was not much larger than my foot and had a slender stick for a perch, while the condor’s was enormous and had a thick tree shaped like an upside-down ‘L’ on top. The branch had deep scars cut into the wood, presumably from the condor’s claws. The falcon’s and the bat’s perches were similar but smaller.
When I’d completed my circle, there was only one throne left to look at. It was a quarter the size of the bear’s, but even so, the chair was much too large for me.
“And this one must be—”
“Yours.”
I spun around. The voice was not Vulpeera’s.
“Who said that?” I asked, scanning the area but seeing only sand and stones.
“Up here,” came the voice again, and I followed it to the top of the birch tree, where a white snowy owl sat staring at me.
Had it been there all along?
It wasn’t a large bird—not like Catharia—and its white feathers shimmered silver in the breeze. Its faded yellow eyes were rimmed with black, its head rotated so that its body faced the opposite direction. It turned slowly, righting itself on the branch, watching me continuously.
“So,” the owl said, “the young Winter Wayfair has arrived at the Cove despite the best efforts of a few. We are glad for it. Terra is glad.”
The owl’s voice had a resonant quality, as if it were bouncing off every wall of the cove.
“How do you know my name?” I asked nervously. There was something powerful about the owl, something that made me uneasy.
“I know much more than that,” the owl said, puffing out its chest. “I know you are the daughter of Gregor and Autumn Wayfair. I know you have lived with Lillian since you were an infant and that every night you write in a journal. I know you spend your school year in Dunvy and your holidays on the island of Pitchi. I know you are bullied by your peers and tormented by your cousin. I know that in the evenings you watch the mountains endlessly. But most importantly, I know you are having doubts about accepting your Guardianship.”
I stood with my mouth open. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed, or worried that I had a stalker.
“My name is Scanda,” the owl continued. “I am the Guardian of the Guardians, Messenger of Terra, Keeper of the Cove.”
The owl spread her wings and dropped from the tree, landing neatly on the sand in front of me.
“The amulet,” she said, bowing her head.
It took me a moment to realize what the owl was asking. I reached up and felt the necklace between my fingers, the polished surface smooth beneath my skin.
Give it to the owl? But it was my father’s.
Granny’s words returned to me—it hadn’t belonged to my father. Still, wearing it made me feel closer to him, as if it connected us. I didn’t want to give it up, but I didn’t want to deny the owl, either. I’d already had enough trouble with animals hating me that day. Besides, the necklace hadn’t exactly brought me any luck.
I slipped the amulet from around my neck and laid it at the owl’s feet.
Scanda grasped the chain with her talon, turned, and flew back up to the tree, where she placed the amulet around a high branch. It swung back and forth, glinting in the sun.
Vulpeera nudged my hand gently with her nose. “Come on,” she said, “let’s go rinse your wounds in the water and prepare for the ceremony.”
Chapter 13
I STOOD IN THE SHALLOW WATER, RINSING THE BLOOD AND SAND from the gashes covering my body. The salt water stung like wasps, but Vulpeera assured me it would help the cuts heal. I hoped so—otherwise it was a really mean prank.
As I washed, I thought about everything that had happened. Two days before, I had been an ordinary girl attending Dunvy High (okay, maybe not ordinary with eyes like mine, but close enough), and now here I was, sitting in the middle of a sandy cove next to a talking fox after escaping both a pack of angry wolves led by an overgrown bear and a pod of angry killer whales. Truthfully, I didn’t understand.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling it catch in my throat.
Vulpeera’s soft fur rubbed against my leg.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I took another deep breath, trying to hold myself together and keep my voice steady. “I just … I just feel completely overwhelmed. I’ve got you and Cheelion telling me I should become the next Land Guardian of Wisdom, and at the same time, there’s a bear and an orca trying to kill me so that I don’t. And I’ve got no idea what it actually means to be a Guardian. I appreciate that you’ve been trying to explain it to me, but, well, shouldn’t there be some sort of handbook for all this?”
Vulpeera nodded. “I see how scary it all must seem, and no doubt Arctos and Cano have not made it any easier, but try to remember that it is Terra you will serve, not them. Our Mother’s selection comes with both honor and faith. She is careful. She would not have chosen you if you were not ready. And from everything I have seen thus far, you are ready.”
“Ready?” I lifted my arms to show the gashes. “Look at these! I’m one cut away from a missing limb.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Vulpeera said, pacing back and forth in the wet sand of the surf. “You could have given up in the cave, or on the river, or on the beach. You could have stopped running and let yourself be killed, but you didn’t, you kept going. It is a testament to your character that you are here. You need to trust in yourself. But more importantly, you need to trust in Terra.”
I sighed, looking out across the ocean. “I don’t mind trusting Terra—it’s just that bear I have trouble trusting.”
“Arctos is … misguided. As I said before, he will not touch you once you have taken your oath. And if he is made the Terra Protectorum, he will need you to teach him your ability.”
“Ability?”
Vulpeera smiled. “Once you are made a Guardian, Terra will grant you an ability, to help protect Her and all of Terra Creatura.”
“Terra Creatura? Do you purposely talk gibberish?”
Vulpeera laughed. “Terra Creatura is what we call the creatures of the earth. From the great condors and bears, right down to the tiniest of insects. As a Guardian, you are sworn to protect all of Terra Creatura.”
“And I’m given some ability to help me do this?”
Vulpeera nodded. “Long ago, before the Almost End, there were no Guardians, and the balance of life was maintained by Terra Herself. But without responsibility, Terra Creatura grew reckless. They showed no concern for the balance and in doing so, they nearly destroyed our Mother. When it came time to start over and the Guardianship was created, Terra decided to grant control of Her balance to the Guardians. It was Her hope that with responsibility would come diligence. The many facets of Terra were divided, and each group of Guardians was given a piece to protect. The Guardians of Strength would protect Her elements, the Guardians of Speed would protect Her forces, the Guardians of Agility would protect Her fluidity, and the Guardians of Wisdom would be granted the most important responsibility of all—that of protecting Terra’s energy.”
“I’d be responsible for protecting Terra’s energy with this ability She gives me? And then I’d have to teach that ability to the bear?”
“If Arctos is made the Terra Protectorum, then yes. It is the responsibility of each of the Guardians to teach their ability to the Terra Protectorum, whomever that may be.”
“Why?”
“So that the Terra Protectorum may reach Unomnis, a state of oneness with our Mother.”
“And then what happens?”
Vulpeera shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not certain. No one has ever mastered all twelve of the abilities, so this is all based on legend. But it is said that once a Terra Protectorum has mastered all of the abilities, they will reach a state of completeness. From this state, the Terra Protectorum will have the power to heal all. They will be omniscient and omnipotent—all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful. Everywhere and nowhere. Or so the legend goes.”
I mulled this over as Vulpeera continued to pace, noticing that her paws made no prints in the wet surf.
“What exactly will my ability be?”
“For that, you must wait and see,” Vulpeera said with a wink. “But I promise, you will not be disappointed.”
“You and your secrets remind me of Granny,” I said, rolling my eyes and walking from the water to my backpack.
Vulpeera was right—my cuts felt better. I sat down and took an apple from the bag, or at least the remnants of what looked like an apple. I tore off a bite of the bruised fruit, watching the sun make its final descent behind the horizon, the sky now a salmon colour.
A nagging question crept into my head as I sat. Since Cheelion wasn’t around, I decided to ask it.
“Vulpeera,” I said, cautiously choosing my words. “You said before that, um … that being a Guardian was in my blood. What did you mean?”
Vulpeera gave me a sly smile like she knew where this was going. “Guardianships are passed down through a bloodline. Whether it’s to a son or a daughter or a niece or nephew, the next Guardian nearly always has some relation to the previous.”
“My father was a Guardian?”
Vulpeera turned her head toward the water, scanning the waves. She didn’t look back at me as she said, “Yes.”
“And the whale—Cano—he called my father a murderer. That isn’t true, is it?”
Vulpeera continued to stare out to the horizon, but for the briefest of seconds her eyes changed. What had that look been? I’d seen it before. Then it came to me: it was the same look my teachers gave me when they asked for something to be signed by my parents, only to find out I had none.
Pity—that’s what it was.
“It’s dusk,” Vulpeera said, standing and turning toward the thrones. “We should take our places. The ceremony will soon begin.”
Chapter 14
I SAT ON THE THRONE OF THE LAND GUARDIAN OF WISDOM, THE marble cold and hard beneath me. It should have felt good to sit, but at that moment I felt anything but comfortable.
The sun had disappeared below the horizon until only a faint amber light trickled into the Cove, and in that light, shadows began to emerge. A cat-like silhouette, long and slender, crept over the wall and down toward the throne between Vulpeera and me. It climbed up and sat with a straight back, while its long tail swished back and forth behind it.
The cheetah, I thought. Vulpeera had called her Felinia, the Land Guardian of Speed.
A few seconds later, a streak of black fell from the sky like an arrow, weaving its way through the thrones twice before settling on a perch atop one of the Sky-Guardian stones. It was a sleek bird with brown wings and a white, speckled chest. I thought through the animals and recalled the falcon, the Sky Guardian of Speed.
It made sense—the bird had been only a blur until it landed.
I easily recognized the next two shadows from the sky: Catharia, the enormous condor, and Pteron, the bat, who flew as if he had the hiccups. Catharia sat on the largest perch, looking regal and intimidating, while Pteron hung upside down with his furry body half hidden beneath his wings.
The Water Guardians were harder to spot. One moment, the waves washed over empty rocks, and the next, they were occupied by shadows. There was a small, pacing creature I recognized as an otter; a motionless mound that was Cheelion; a long spear pointing high above the water, Isteel. And lastly, a massive beast with black skin that gleamed in the dying light—Cano, the orca that had tried to kill me only a few hours before.
Cano was staring at me, his eyes like two burning coals. His hatred was unmistakable.
Why did he hate me so much? Had my father really murdered his?
I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t let myself.
The last Guardian appeared. My skin grew cold, and every hair stood on end as the enormous shadow lumbered over the wall. It suddenly felt hard to breathe, as if all the air had been sucked from the cove.
Arctos had appeared large at the river but when he walked toward me, stopping only a few feet from my throne, I saw how truly massive he was. His powerful shoulders were the same height as my head, even as I sat high on my throne.
The bear made no move to go to his seat; instead, he stood glaring at me, his face so close I could smell sour fish on his breath. His dark brown fur was tipped with grey, and on his right side was a bald patch of leathery black skin that bore an old scar. I couldn’t help but notice his giant paws in the sand, claws half buried, but still visible enough to remind me how easily he could crush every bone in my body.
“Arctos, you are late!” a familiar voice boomed. Scanda did not sound pleased. “Take your seat!”
Arctos sniffed and gave an unconcerned shrug of his giant shoulders before turning and climbing onto his throne.
From her perch on the tree, Scanda glowered at the bear before swiveling her head completely around, looking at each of the animals in turn.
“Guardians of Terra,” she said, “protectors of She Who Gives Us Life. May strength and agility and speed and wisdom forever hold us fair!”
“We live to protect,” came a low chorus from around the cove.
“Tonight, we are gathered to accept two new Guardians sent by Terra, and to bear witness as they take their oaths of Guardianship.”
There was a quiet murmur around the circle.
“For years, we have patiently waited while two of our thrones remained empty. They stood as reminders of Malum and its destruction. Tonight, balance will be restored. Tonight, we mend our circle. Tonight, we move past the destruction.”
Again, there were murmurs, this time louder.
“I know some of you have concerns over Terra’s selections,” Scanda continued, “but I remind you to trust in your Mother. Trust in Terra, for She has been more careful than you presume.”
The murmurs grew to grumblings of discontent.
The owl would have none of it. Her eyes changed, taking on a glow as she glared around the circle. The animals fell silent, one by one, as if their tongues had turned to stone.
When the cove was silent again, the owl continued, “Tonight, we call on Cano, son of Orcavion, to take his oath as the Water Guardian of Strength, and Winter, daughter of Gregor, to take her oath as the Land Guardian of Wisdom.
“Come forward, Cano. Come forward and take your oath.”
The giant whale slid from his watery pedestal and swam to the centre of the circle. The moon had begun to rise, and golden light reflected off the water around the cove.
Once Cano had reached the pillar in the centre, swimming up the sloping edge so that his face was near the top, the owl raised her wings to the sky.
“Cano, son of Orcavion, Terra has selected you as the next Water Guardian of Strength, to protect all of Terra Creatura through your power and vitality, and above all, to pledge your life to protecting Her. In return, Terra will grant you the gift of Aquanios—the power to control the waves. Do you accept Her gift and honor Her request?”
